This morning as I took the early morning walk into work my eyes wandered up into the bluish, gray sky. A smattering of clouds completely covered the expanse of the atmosphere, and they resembled small tongues of puffy vapor tickling the air all around. I stood amazed at such a simple sight, its mundane beauty didn’t elude me. I whispered gratitude under my breath at such a lovely welcome at the start of my day, and suddenly I found myself choking back tears as I entered the workplace. At that moment of recognition for simple, everyday signs of God’s majestic love, I felt the presence of God all around me, within me, and so close it was as if I could have touched it. Then the moment passed.
I was reminded, at that moment, how a God so big as to finger paint the sky in a manner that would make Monet envious could still somehow touch my spirit so sufficiently, allowing me to know that I was especially loved. I recalled a vision He had recently given to me.
In my vision I stood in a large room with a ceiling I could not see. In fact, the only thing I could picture was the massive, maroon cloth that flowed all around me. It was as if it fell from the sky in swirls, all around me the heavy cloth floated and twirled in its descension. I instinctively knew it was a robe.
It was the royal robe of my King, my God, and I peered up as His robes swirled, twisted, and came to rest on the ground. As I looked upwards the distance between us grew. It was as if my act of looking up towards His face (which I never quite saw), created the realization of just how big my God truly was. And at that exact moment I also realized just how small I was.
I surveyed the expanse between this enormous God of mine, and contrasted His immensity with the tiny, insignificant form of myself. My mind immediately went to the story of Gulliver’s Travels. It was like I was from the island of Lilliput, and He was my giant.
It was honestly overwhelming, and almost disheartening, but before I could lament much further on how far away He was I was almost knocked down by the fast, unexpected swirling of those regal robes all around my feet. They began to move, like a fire hose suddenly coming to life, and while I held my balance despite the shift in my surroundings I realized it was His turning body that caused the robes to move.
He turned, the robes moved with Him, and as He whirled around to face me He also crouched. It was that gesture you often see when a parent turns and bends to attend to the small child at their feet. And somehow as He knelt towards me, coming down to my level, He no longer towered over me in an intimidating way. Magically as He turned to meet me face to face, we were almost the same. Size wise, anyway.
It wasn’t that He was no longer mighty, majestic, or massive. He still was! Yet He was approachable, not frightening, and definitely loving. It was at this moment I felt Him speak.
I will always meet you where you are because I love you.
At that moment I was overcome by the love of my Heavenly Father. He was giant! He was mighty and worthy of praise! Yet instead of not seeing a little ole me, He turned in love, met me face to face, and held me in His embrace.
That’s how I see the love of the Father. And each moment when I see His handiwork painted across the sky, feel His touch in a cool breeze, or hear His joy in the laugh of a child, I am reminded that He meets me right where I am every day in so many different ways.